


Lay Me to Sleep

by GraveVyxen



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveVyxen/pseuds/GraveVyxen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They must finally accept that Fili is gone. BoFA AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE: Lay Me to Sleep
> 
> CHARACTERS: Thorin Oakenshield, Kili, Fili (deceased)
> 
> PAIRINGS: none, Fili/Kili if you squint
> 
> NOTES: Inspired by http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=3318459#t3318459 on the Hobbit Kink Meme, Prompt Post #3.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Characters are not mine, nor do I claim that they are.

This was going to be the hardest thing they would ever have to do. Of that much, Thorin was certain. He saw it in Kili’s face. The sadness that shone in his nephew’s remaining eye was enough to put a heavy pain in his chest. He still felt the guilt of being the reason that Kili’s face had been ruined by a warg during the battle, damaging his sight beyond repair. Even if the younger joked to him that the eyepatch he now wore finally made him look matured, it still hurt that it was his fault. He’d been stupid to believe that they would all make it out of that battle unscathed.

“Go on, Kili.” Thorin finally murmured softly as he nudged the other dwarf toward the door. “You were his closest kin. It is your honor to finish preparing him for viewing.”

Kili’s hands shook slightly as he reached for the handle of the heavy door. “Yes, uncle.” He replied, softly. Light shown off of the ring that he’d been given by his brother during his last moments. The ring of the line of Durin. With a sigh, he disappeared into the room that held his brother’s body.

Thorin leaned heavily against the wall once his nephew was gone. He still got sick looking at Kili’s face, even now. The angry, red claw marks that the warg had left on the once-handsome face of his youngest heir, only heir now, he had to remind himself, the marks were his fault. The death of his heir, Kili’s brother, his sister-son, was on his shoulders. He shouldn’t be here. He should have protected Fili, taken the sword in his own gut. It should have been he that died, not Fili. He was meant to protect them both and he’d failed.

A hand slunk up to Thorin’s shoulder, rubbing the burns left behind from the flaming arrow that Fili had been pulling out when the orc’s sword found home in his back. He would never forget the smile that had been on his nephew’s face when he tugged at the shaft of the arrow, the way he had opened his mouth to say something clever. But before he could utter more than a short laugh, his face had fallen to one of shock. He’d looked down to see the point of a blade, pushing through his skin, further and further, before Fili had locked eyes with Thorin again. His hands had released the arrow, shaking, while the orc placed a foot against his shoulder to push him from the sword.

Nothing could purge Kili’s shout from Thorin’s mind, the way his voice had cracked when he fell to his knees at his brother’s side. The way tears streamed down his dirty, blood-caked face when he’d pulled Fili’s head into his lap. “No, Fili, brother, no!” He’d buried a hand into the golden locks of his brother’s hair. “Stay with me! You cannot go like this!”

But Fili had shushed him as best he could. Barely able to raise his arms, he’d taken his brother’s closest hand in his and smiled, a watery, slow smile. “No, Kili…you must fight on. Reclaim uncle’s throne.” He’d coughed, slipped off his ring. “Please…for me…” The ring was pressed into Kili’s palm. “You are his heir now…” He’d smiled a bit. “And I’ll still be with you…always…”

And Thorin would never forget the way Kili howled when Fili’s soul left his body. How he’d become a whirlwind of intensity, killing any and everything in his way. He had never fought better than he did on that battlefield.

It was at that moment that Thorin realized that he’d not seen Kili in quite a while. The ceremony was to begin soon, and Kili was still not finished with his task? He heaved a soft sigh before knocking at the chamber door. When there was no answer, he pushed the door in. He wasn’t surprised to see Kili on his knees by the marble table that Fili’s body lay upon, clothed in his finest tunic, hair brushed and shining, looking nothing like the pale corpse they had brought home from the battlefield. The priest had done a good job at making him look his best. The only things missing were his weapons and, of course, his braids. The braids his closest kin was supposed to put into his hair, as per tradition.

But there Kili was, on the floor, holding his brother’s cold hand and sobbing. “I am so sorry, Fili. I should have protected you, I should have kept you safe, and I didn’t. I should have watched out for you. I am so sorry. I failed you.” His lips pressed to Fili’s fingers. “And now you’re gone and I will never be able to ask your forgiveness.”

Thorin moved to his nephew’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Kili…” His gaze moved to the pale figure on the table. “Do you want me to do it?” He asked quietly, using the same tone that he’d used when his nephews were still small children. “I wouldn’t mind, if you cannot bring yourself to start.”

Kili chewed at his lower lip. His chest heaved from his sobs still, and his eye was cast toward the stone floor. “Yes, uncle. That would…that would be preferable.”

Thorin nodded, closing his eyes momentarily to try and banish the memories of his nephews in their childhood from his mind. Their pleading eyes, unscarred bodies, mischievous smiles. When they had no cares in the world beyond sweets and stories. When there was no journey ahead of them, and no threat of harm. It was so difficult now, to see Fili like this, when, not long ago, he was just a small dwarfling begging to climb up on his uncle’s strong shoulders.

Even Thorin’s strong hands were trembling when he reached for his nephew’s hair. He slowly began to braid it, in the way Fili always liked it done in life. One under each temple, down in front of his ears. And one behind each ear, back toward the clasp the priest had been nice enough to put back after washing his golden hair for his burial ceremony. But when it came time for Thorin to start braiding Fili’s mustache, he found that he couldn’t. His hands shook too much. And that was when it hit him that he was crying, had been crying, mourning the loss of such a valiant warrior, mourning a member of his family whom was nearly a son to him. He could not control himself enough to even give Fili a proper braiding because he was in no condition to let himself remember the past.

A pair of arms slowly snaked around his waist, and a warm pressure was against his back. “I miss him, Uncle Thorin.” Kili murmured into Thorin’s tunic, squeezing him tightly. “I miss my brother.” His tears were soaking the fabric, but Thorin didn’t care. “Why did it have to be him?”

Thorin sighed shakily. “Because he was the bravest of us all.” He replied, quietly. “He did not even worry about protecting himself. Only helping us. And he gave his life to see us carry on.”

Kili released his uncle from his embrace and moved to be nearer to Fili’s body. His hands reached for his brother’s facial hair, braiding the mustache gently. “He always made sure they were perfectly symmetrical.” He whispered, more to himself than to Thorin. “He was very particular about his appearance.”

Thorin felt pride seeing Kili allow himself to finally accept his duty. “And he’d be happy to know that you were the one to do this for him, as you do exactly what he would have wanted.” His hand fell on his nephew’s shoulder. “And he is still here with us.”

Kili gave Thorin a sad smile. “Do you believe that?”

Thorin returned the expression. “He said it himself, did he not?”

The younger dwarf nodded, taking one last look at Fili before hefting up his specially made swords to cross over his chest. “He did, didn’t he?”

“He’d be proud of you, Kili.” Thorin wiped away the tears from his nephew’s cheeks. “As I am, right now. My heir.”

Kili’s smile wavered only slightly. “Thank you, uncle.” He moved to kiss Fili’s cold lips, and then his forehead. “I will see you in the next life, brother.”

Thorin repeated Kili’s gesture before leading him from the room as the burial ceremony started.


End file.
